


How They Met

by keeperofstories



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Beauxbatons!Draco, Guardian!Hagrid, Harry and Draco are unapologetically into each other, M/M, No Voldemort, The Ides of Drarry: A Drarry Game/Fest, brief description of child abuse/neglect, brief flirting, magical au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23605465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keeperofstories/pseuds/keeperofstories
Summary: While house sitting for the Weasley's, animal magnet Harry Potter meets a cat. Then a man. Agorgeousman.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 16
Kudos: 259
Collections: The Ides of Drarry: A Drarry Game/Fest





	How They Met

“Hullo there,” Harry said to his unexpected feline companion. He wasn’t surprised when the black cat ignored his greeting and simply curled up a safe distance from where Harry sat, relaxed on the Weasley’s veranda and sipping a beer.  


Animals, both magical and not, had a way of finding Harry. At first, it was just snakes who came to him, keeping a lonely boy company and making his “room” in the cupboard under the stairs feel a little less cold. As he grew, larger animals, like cats, dogs, and horses started popping in on him, as if they had been holding off until he was big enough that their size wouldn’t scare him. One time, Uncle Vernon had nearly had a stroke when he walked out his front door to see a camel patiently waiting on his front yard for Harry to make his appearance, calmly making a meal of Aunt Petunia’s bushes.  


Most of the animals just seemed to want to visit with Harry, to say “hi”, though this was just a guess on Harry’s part as he could only actually communicate with the snakes and they tended to stick around. Some non-snakes did stay for longer than a day and these animals almost always played significant roles in Harry’s life.  


The snakes were the first, coiling around his wrists and throat in comfort as he cried from hunger, reminding him the he wasn’t the Dursley’s thing, that he wasn’t “boy.” He was Harry Potter and that meant something. The second was a dog.  


At eight years old, Harry was too small to be mowing the yard safely but that was what he was doing while his cousin Dudley ate ice cream from the window inside the air-conditioned house. A terrible heat wave had been sweeping across England, the Dursley’s had neglected to give Harry any water for three days, and now they insisted he mow the yard. “Appearances must be maintained.”  


Despite feeling increasingly ill, Harry continued to push the mower up and down, never pausing, keeping his focus trained on his hands before him. It was the sound of barking that snapped Harry out of his haze and he twisted his body around to see an enormous boarhound loping straight towards him. Unfortunately, the sharp movement of his turn proved too much and Harry collapsed, unconscious, before the dog could reach him.  


He woke feeling remarkably refreshed, lying on the sofa by the window—something he had never been allowed to do before—with an oddly dressed woman with kind, slanted brown eyes sitting next to him. If that wasn’t strange enough, there was also the head of a slobbery dog tucked against his feet and the largest man Harry had ever seen berating the Dursleys as they cowered in a corner of their own living room.  


“Nothin’ but skin an’ bones,” the man was hollering, making everything shake, “‘An who knows what would've ‘appened ter ‘im if Fang ‘adn’t’a run off and me gone after ‘im. Ter think, Lily and James Potter’s son, left alone ter roast in the ‘ot sun. What’re yeh tryin’ ter do, kill ‘im?!” The man bellowed as the middle-aged woman, with a kind smile, ran a stick down Harry’s torso. Harry couldn’t decide which to focus on, the colourful display the stick was producing or the man’s words as he continued his scathing dress down. He saw the woman frown as the bright colours became dull and muted, their cheerful dance of a second ago becoming listless. He wanted to ask her so many things—who was she, how was she doing that with the stick, who was the man, had they known his parents, could he pat the dog? But he knew the punishment for asking questions, so he kept still and silent, pretending that he didn’t exist.  


“Don’t worry, Mr. Potter,” the woman said gently, her voice a lovely lilt, like a balm on tender skin, smooth and cool, but bringing warmth and comfort. She swept her hand through his wild hair much like he would imagine a mother would and used that wonderful voice to say, “You’re safe now.” With that, she stood and headed towards the still yelling giant of a man as the dog took the spot the woman had vacated, resting his heavy, but comforting, head on Harry’s chest as Harry felt the threat of tears sting his eyes. He had never felt safe before.  


Harry watched as more strangely dressed people—witches and wizards, he would later discover—arrived. At some point, the Dursleys disappeared. The people asked Harry questions which he answered in a daze. The giant man came over and introduced himself as Hagrid. Now that he wasn’t yelling, Harry noticed that his voice, while very deep and rumbly, was also exceedingly kind. Hagrid also had a stick—a wand—and he swished it around in a complicated fashion and suddenly there was a plate of biscuits floating in mid-air. Harry was astonished and took the offered plate incredulously, expecting his fingers to pass right through it. But the plate was solid and the biscuits tasted completely real. And delicious  


“‘Elp yerself,” Hagrid said and Harry had eaten over half of them before he remembered his manners and offered the plate back to Hagrid to share; Hagrid had looked a little teary-eyed at that. He then shook his great, shaggy head, letting Harry finish the plate.  


It was obviously Harry couldn’t stay in that house and the adults were all debating where Harry should go above his head while Hagrid conjured a glass of water for Harry to drink. That, more than the biscuits or anything else that had happened, started Harry to crying and, at the sight of his tears, Hagrid had stood up and announced, “‘E’s going ter live with me.” No one seemed willing to argue with Hagrid, so Harry left the Dursley’s house for good and finally got to go _home_.  


After the trial and all the legal business to officially make Hagrid his guardian, life at Hagrid’s hut on the Hogwarts grounds settled into a normal routine. Hagrid had altered his hut, expanding the interior to allow room for Harry and he even let Harry decide on the look of his new room, waving his wand and laughing kindly at Harry’s look of wonder as the room followed Hagrid’s command.  


Even more animals found their way to Harry after that, magical ones too now. Hagrid was thrilled. At each visitor, Harry grew less and less reticent, Hagrid working hard to encourage Harry’s questions. His enthusiasm convinced Harry he was safe and he finally got to indulge his natural curiosity. Now that it was allowed, he quickly found he was no longer content to simply watch animals come and go, he wanted to learn about them; and Hagrid loved nothing more than talking about the strange and beautiful creatures that came to say “hullo.”  


Hagrid was a font of knowledge and never tired of talking to Harry about the proper care and treatment of animals. It was Hagrid who led Harry through his first splint as they both treated a hippogriff who had broken a leg. As he helped Hagrid, Harry realized this was the third creature to change his life, as he suddenly knew exactly what he wanted to be when he grew up. And, for the first time, with Hagrid, Fang, and his snakes beside him, with Hogwarts as his home, he looked forward to that future with hope.  


“Hullo again,” Harry said as he found the same black cat from the other day waiting for him as he exited the Weasley’s home to go for a run. At the sight of him, the cat turned around haughtily and started walking off. Harry shrugged and then set off on his run in the opposite direction. He had just finished his warm-up and was starting to increase his pace when a weight slammed into the back of his knees, nearly toppling him over. He just managed to save himself from a nasty collision with the pavement and turned to see the black cat sitting crossly, tail twitching in vexation. Apparently, Harry was supposed to have followed it and the tom cat did not take kindly to having to track Harry down. _Such a demanding beast,_ Harry thought indulgently as the cat go up and once again headed off in the opposite direction, not even glancing back, clearly expecting Harry to follow this time.  


“Alright,” Harry said bemusedly, long accustomed to the sometimes odd behaviour of the animals who approached him. Not wanting to lose out on his workout, he set his usual pace, the black cat running to keep stride with him.  


Harry had worked up a light sweat by the time the cat gave him a nudge, stopping in front of one of the grandest houses Harry had ever seen. This house, Harry observed, was made to make anyone approaching it feel small and insignificant.  


Waiting for whatever the cat wanted to do next, Harry stretched, doing some lunges, bending over to touch his toes, keeping his muscles warm. A sound behind him made him turn and he saw a man about his own age standing halfway between Harry and the imposing mansion, looking like he had been hit by a Petrificus Totalus. Harry felt much the same way as he took in long, lean lines, sleek, almost-white blonde hair, cheekbones that looked like they could cut, and an air of lithe grace that literally drew Harry forward a step, just to get a better look.  


The movement broke whatever spell the man was under and he came the rest of the way down the walkway until he was standing right in front of Harry, a scowl twisting his features.  


“Does that creature belong to you?” The man demanded and damn, he had a voice to match the rest of him, Harry detecting a slight accent in it. That voice pulled Harry forward another step, closing any space that remained between them. He noticed the man was a few centimetres taller than him and that he had piercing silver eyes. The man swallowed, all traces of anger vanishing from his face and he said again, this time with an uncertain quaver in the slight baritone of his voice. 

“Well, does he?”  


Harry glanced at the cat who was currently washing a patch of fur on his back and shook his head.  


“He doesn’t. I thought he just wanted to hang out for the afternoon but I’m beginning to wonder.”  


“You hang out with cats?” The man asked, puzzled, and Harry closed his eyes to take in that voice. This man was undeniably gorgeous but he could look like a misshapen toadstool and Harry would still be attracted to him if he used that enticing voice.  


“I’m an animal magnet,” Harry explained and studied the man’s face, curious to see what his reaction would be. Most people had never even heard of this magical talent and those who had had the unfortunate tendency to think that made Harry half-animal himself. He had seen his fair share of reactions that ran the gambit from stuttering terror to crude pick-up lines—as if being an animal magnet meant he must fuck like one. He saw interest in those silver eyes, but not of the kind that always made his skin crawl. It was a light curiosity that reminded Harry of Hermione when she stumbled upon a previously unheard-of book. Before he could say anything, however, the black cat bolted towards the front door the man had left open, disappearing into the darkness within.  


Remembering his previous anger, the man ran after the interloper, gritting out, “Oh, no you don’t.” Harry, willing to see where this all would lead, followed after both cat and man at a more leisurely stroll.  


As he entered the house, he had to pause for a second for his eyes to adjust to the relatively darker space after the blazing sunshine outside. By the time he could see without black spots marring his vision, man and cat had both disappeared but he heard stomping on the level above him and followed the noise to an open door. Harry saw the fuming man but no cat. Seeing how this man’s anger seemed to chill the very air around him as he considered a massive bed by the far wall, Harry wondered how a cat could have be so offensive.  


Before he could ask, the man was making a very familiar swish and flick movement with his wand.  


“Wingardium leviosa,” he cast, levitating the bed away to reveal the black cat and a very pregnant Kneazle.  


“You’ve caused enough trouble,” the man snarled at the cat, “Get away from her.” Even mad, this man’s voice was a pleasure to the ear. Harry was quickly distracted, however, by the way the Kneazle was chirping while pacing in a circle.  


“Get water,” Harry ordered abruptly, stopping the man’s ineffective shooing. “And towels,” Harry added as he took calm, measured strides towards the two animals.  


“What? Why?” The man asked, side-tracked from his attempts to separate the pair and Harry took the opportunity to kneel down about a metre away from the two.  


“She’s in labour,” Harry answered as he took a quick visual assessment of the Kneazle’s condition. A shocked gasp sounded behind him as a pink tongue started licking a golden-brown head before the tom cat took a few steps back. At his retreat, the Kneazle stretched, extending and then retracting her claws.  


“But she isn’t due for weeks yet,” the man denied as Harry took the Kneazle’s actions as permission to approach and he took out his own wand and started casting diagnostic spells.  


“Trust me” he told the frazzled owner, “I’m an animal Healer at a clinic a few towns over. I know the signs. Could you get the water and towels now, please?” Harry asked again. Before the man was completely out of the room, Harry called, “Wait, what’s her name?”  


“Precious Lady,” the man replied reluctantly and Harry laughed in surprise. “My friend Pansy named her!” The man said defensively, “I’ve never had a pet before, never really wanted one, but Pans got her for me as a birthday present. I didn’t have any choice in the name and well. Oh, fuck off,” the man finished as Harry just kept laughing but it was said in a light-hearted manner and Harry could see him fight the pull as his lips tried to form an answering smile to Harry’s mirth. Without another word, the man left to get what Harry asked for and Harry returned to his patient, saying, “Well, Precious Lady,” Harry said, “Ready to be a mum?”  


Despite the early delivery, everything was proceeding normally. At Harry’s suggestion that the man might want to leave the room, that things could get messy, he had simply rolled up his sleeves and asked how he could help. Harry grinned as he realized that this man was more than just a pretty face and a nice voice. This man cared deeply for his pet; he wasn’t just keeping her for the prestige of owning her.  


Noticing the physical appeal of a person was a very common thing and something Harry could easily ignore. Seeing this man as he cradled Precious Lady’s head with such loving concern made Harry _interested_ ; he wanted to know more about this foreign man. Later. Right now, he had to help a first-time mother birth three Kneazle/cat hybrids.  


The process was long but not especially difficult and Harry found the man to be a very good assistant. It was as Harry was delivering the final of the three kittens that the first thread of worry wove through him. This last kitten was clearly the runt of the litter and Harry could tell immediately that his lungs were underdeveloped. Acting quickly, he cast the series of spells that would create as close to an artificial womb as current magic could get, placing the struggling kitten within it and casting the charm to seal it. The man had stopped admiring his new charges when he heard Harry’s spellwork and now he came over with a worried frown.  


“Everything alright?” He asked and Harry watched as the kitten contained within the clear, oval bubble flexed and stretched in its new environment. It was a strong one, despite being a runt, and, though perhaps Harry was projecting a little, he knew it wanted a chance to live. And he felt, as he stared down at this tiny creature that had just entered the world, that this was another one of the animals that would change his life forever. And he was hoping, as he looked over at the man still waiting for his answer, that it had something to do with him.  


“His lungs are underdeveloped,” Harry said, hurrying to add as he saw the panic start to take over the man beside him, “It should be fine. He’ll just need careful monitoring as he grows a little more in the magi-womb.”  


The man paused for a moment after that, taking in the magi-womb, the content mother with her two kittens resting against her, and the tom sleeping in a patch of sunlight streaming through a window. Taking a deep breath and running his hands through his hair in an attempt to tame it, the man smiled and said, “I suppose that means we will be seeing more of each other, then.”  


Harry answered the smile with his own and replied, “I suppose it does.”  


“Draco Malfoy,” the man, Draco, said, extending a strong hand out towards Harry.  


“Harry Potter,” Harry said, taking that hand within his own and giving a firm shake.  


“Well, Harry,” Draco said with a breathless laugh, “I need a drink.”  


“Is that an invitation?” Harry asked, swaying forward.  


Draco gulped, sweeping one last look at Precious Lady and her kittens and then answered, “Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed this. I might turn it into a series, I'm not sure. For now it's a oneshot.
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated :D


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